


The Endangered Ones

by PhantomSwelling



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Cryptoprocta ferox, Equus africanus, I have no idea what to tag this as, I talk about Wild Asses in Ethiopia, Jon is kind of sarcastic and great, M/M, My friend's favorite animal is the Fossa so I made Spencer love them too, Pete Wentz is amazing, Spencer's boss is a jerk, cuss words
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 07:30:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4051567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomSwelling/pseuds/PhantomSwelling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer’s honored to be able to speak for them, to be heard, he really is, but only one thing stood in Spencer’s way; he knew absolutely nothing about the Equus africanus or why they were considered to be more important than the Cougar, the Chimpanzee, the West Indian Manatee, the Giant Panda, or the Tasmanian Tiger. In fact, he couldn’t think of a reason why someone would find an animal with the word ‘ass’ in it’s name worth saving. Sure, Spencer was part of a company that wanted to represent and speak for all animals despite names or if they were a special type of endangered donkey, but he wasn’t entirely sure he was comfortable with saying the words ‘wild’ and ‘ass’ in the same sentence in front of a giant room full of people, especially a room similar in capacity and design to the one the United Nations sat at when discussing world issues. </p><p>Disclaimer: None of this is true. It's fake. Also, some of the thoughts Spencer has, such as in the summary above, aren't mine. They're only there to add a bit of (failed) humor into the story. I love all animals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Endangered Ones

Spencer had spent months working on a paper for the Endangered Species Conference sponsored by a well known association that went by the name of Save The Species (STS). Spencer’s company, which is best known as the Endangered Conventionalists, or even just the Conventionalists, was another industry that tried but never got enough sponsors or volunteers because it was always considered second best to STS. Oddly enough though, Spencer’s company did a lot more saving while STS did most of the talking and advertising. Then, to make matters that much more of an oddity, the two companies were rivals born and raised in the same town but on opposite ends, so it was a surprise--a somewhat pleasant one, nonetheless--when STS had invited the Conventionalists to speak at their thirty-sixth annual Endangered Species Conference, and, by some miracle, the Conventionalists had chosen Spencer to give a speech and represent them. 

It was agreed by those over Spencer’s head that he would speak at the conference in order to receive funding for his fellow Conventionalists to send out a branch of workers to Ethiopia to save the Equus africanus, otherwise known as the African Wild Ass; the smallest member of the horse family and is split into two groups, the Nubian--which is known to be extinct today--and the Somalian. They have been on the endangered list since 1976 and less than a hundred are still known to be alive today, and now Spencer has no choice but to speak out for them. It’s a delicate balance with the survival of the animal and the honor of the Conventionalists on the line and Spencer had to find that balance and exploit it just perfectly. 

Spencer’s honored to be able to speak for them, to be heard, he really is, but only one thing stood in Spencer’s way; he knew absolutely nothing about the Equus africanus or why they were considered to be more important than the Cougar, the Chimpanzee, the West Indian Manatee, the Giant Panda, or the Tasmanian Tiger. In fact, he couldn’t think of a reason why someone would find an animal with the word ‘ass’ in it’s name worth saving. Sure, Spencer was part of a company that wanted to represent and speak for all animals despite names or if they were a special type of endangered donkey, but he wasn’t entirely sure he was comfortable with saying the words ‘wild’ and ‘ass’ in the same sentence in front of a giant room full of people, especially a room similar in capacity and design to the one the United Nations sat at when discussing world issues. 

Then, to make matters worse, the President of the company had slapped Spencer on the back, calling him by his last name, and smiled widely as he told “Smith” he’d be there to answer any questions and then he told everyone in a loud, obnoxious voice that he would go to the Conference to support “Smith” during his speech. So, for months after the announcement that Spencer would be speaking at the Conference, Spencer researched the Equus africanus and was able to come up with at least seven pages of facts and commentary mixed in with subliminal hints as to why it needed to be saved and regarded as a priority over other species such as the Gray Wolf and the Leopard, which were almost guaranteed to be talked about because they were each year. But no matter what Spencer did or how many times he recited the paper to himself in front of the mirror, he couldn’t find the same conviction behind his written words in his spoken; he couldn’t convince himself that the African Wild Ass was more important than everything else, and an even bigger problem was that Spencer just couldn’t bring himself to confide in someone about his particularly big problem because he was too afraid that they’d take the honored opportunity away from him and then he’d lose his job, which he actually kind of liked on most days. So, Spencer endured his lack of conviction to the Ass in silence. 

On the day of the Conference, Spencer stood outside of his apartment complex, his speech tucked in a folder under his arm, palms sweating, and stomach swooping with nerves as he waited for his ride to show up. He was so nervous and impatient, he considered going back over his speech searching for spelling and grammar mistakes once more just for something familiar and time consuming to do. He was so paranoid with making a mistake that even the night before when he was finalizing and printing out the third copy of his speech as backup in case the other two miraculously got destroyed in some freak accident, he thought about printing out about fifty more copies so the people sitting in the front row could follow along as he spoke. Thankfully, he was able to talk himself out of that one, but only because he rationalized with thoughts of the amount of trees being sacrificed and endangering habitats for birds, squirrels, and other tree dwelling animals. 

When Spencer’s ride arrived, he was just about losing his mind. He’d probably only been waiting outside for about ten minutes, but it seemed as if he’d been waiting longer. He was so relieved to see his ride, he wasn’t even surprised when it was a limousine that pulled in to pick him up because it’s the kind of thing both rival companies did in order to look better than the other; really, it kind of baffled Spencer because instead of spending money on, well, saving the animals they were going to this conference to speak about, the companies were spending it on grandeur. Spencer was pretty sure that the animals they were going to try and save from going extinct didn’t care what the people who were trying to save them looked like, but Spencer knew he didn’t have the power to change it, so there was no point in complaining or voicing his opinion on the matter. 

Instead, Spencer just climbed into the large back seat of the limo and again wasn’t surprised to see the President sitting directly across from him, a champagne glass on a small pullout table next to him and his large white fake smile already put into place to match the expensive, and probably dry cleaned, suit he was wearing. He glanced at Spencer for only a second before looking back down at his lap to type quickly on his compact blackberry phone. When he was done, he slipped the phone into the front pocket of his suit, and his pale green eyes were on Spencer, studying him. Spencer nervously shifted in his seat and wondered how the man kept such a painful looking smile on his face for as long as he has and blamed the more-than-likely Botox usage before feeling guilty; he shouldn’t judge the guy before he’d really had a chance to meet him, right?

“So, Smith,” Spencer held in the cringe because the guy probably thought that that was actually Spencer’s name. “I just want to thank you once more for being the face of the Conventionalists. It was brought to my attention by Pete Wentz,” Spencer doesn’t miss the venom in the President’s voice as he brings up Pete, but it’s quickly replaced with a smile, “that your work ethic exceeds that of your peers, and I have to say that I had doubts when Wentz said you were, and I quote, ‘cute enough to feature on the cover of magazines and very level headed when it comes to rationalizing’.”

Spencer holds back laughter when the President brings up Pete’s comment on him being cute, but that doesn’t stop him from mentally cursing Pete out at the same time. It didn’t matter that Pete was his boss or that Pete could fire him at any moment because he’d known Pete since middle school and even though they don’t talk as much as they used to, Spencer knows that Pete hadn’t changed at all. And really, Spencer should’ve known that freaking Pete Wentz was behind all this because good opportunities are only created when a guy knows a guy. 

Spencer shakes his head, fighting a smile, “Sometimes, I have no idea what goes through Mr. Wentz’s head. He’s an enigma the majority of the time.”

The President nods thoughtfully and then says bluntly, “Everyone back at HQ thought you were sleeping with him to get this position.” Spencer’s eyes bulge and he stares at the President in shock. The President seems unalarmed and starts picking at his fingers instead, “But you really don’t seem like the type, so what I’d like to know is how you managed to land this position. No offense,” The President says, his eyes moving calculatorily over Spencer and Spencer’s sure he’s about to get insulted, “but you don’t seem like you’re the best speaker in large public situations. In fact, you look like that kid who sat in the back of classroom and hoped to never be called on. You’re even nervous now and I’m the only one in here with you.”

Spencer takes a deep breath. Pete’s his friend--or at least Spencer still thinks he is--and he’s been Spencer’s friend for a long time at that, but Spencer knows this isn’t the right answer. Spencer knows that if he were to say that, he’d ruin Pete’s credibility and that’s probably why Pete picked him over another friend or two in the same position. Pete had always told Spencer that he was the most level headed out of all their friends, which the President had already said was reported, but Spencer already doesn’t trust the President, especially with the malice in his voice as he talks about Pete.

Then, Spencer shrugs, keeping his voice level as to not give the quick lie away, trying to stick as close to the truth as possible, “I’m as confused as you are about being the representative of the company. Before the announcement, I knew nothing about the Equus africanus and I was working in another field, preparing a campaign for the Cryptoprocta ferox, the Fossa, who are known to live in Madagascar--which isn’t a long ways away from Africa, but far enough from Ethiopia to be considered a whole different place.”

The President waves his hand at Spencer dismissively, “I know. I’ve read your file and the research you had submit on the matter. I was quite impressed with your work on paper, but you’ve never talked at a conference. You’ve always gotten someone else to do it for you. Why?”

Spencer feels trapped yet again, but instead of lying he again sticks close to the truth, “There are always other people available, people with more convincing voices than mine. I’m more of a conductor, the quiet guy who mouths what needs to be said to the forgetful actors.” 

“Right,” The President says, looking frustrated at the lack of information he’s being provided, “but that brings me back to my original question then: if there are more convincing people and people with more experience in public speaking than you, then why were you picked?”

Spencer realized they’d just talked each other into a circle and Spencer meets the President’s eyes as he speaks again, ready for this conversation to be over, “Like I said earlier, I do not know. I was researching in another part of the company and getting ready to defend a whole other classification of animal when I was picked.”

It isn’t until Spencer’s done talking that he realizes he just talked back to his superior as if he was the one who was in charge. Spencer knows it’s too late and if he apologizes then he’s only drawing more attention to his mistake, so he keeps quiet and meets the President’s eyes as he stares at Spencer. Spencer feels overly studied and suddenly very tired, but he doesn’t look away until the President nods once, accepting what Spencer said as the truth, even managing to look disappointed while doing it.

“Right,” is all he says in response and Spencer feels relieved, realizing he dodged a pretty big bullet that could’ve cost him his job, but he doesn’t let down his guard because they aren’t at their destination just yet and Spencer’s not out of the water. Instead, Spencer directs his attention to the car-filled city view outside of the darkly tinted window to his right and hopes they’re almost there.

About twenty minutes later, the President catches Spencer’s attention and smiles icily, bringing his hands together, “Oh, I’ve just remembered that I have something to show you before we get there.”

Spencer silently curses and watches as the President reaches back, searching along the back of his seat. There’s a weird second where Spencer doesn’t know what to expect or what’s going to happen when he hears a click and suddenly a small compartment is rising from the back, revealing a decently sized flat screen TV. Spencer has to admit that he’s pretty impressed.

“Earlier, when we were talking, I mentioned reading your file and your research on the Fossa.” Spencer nods even though the older man isn’t watching him or waiting for the confirmation. Instead, he’s looking down at a small USB in his hand, playing with it, before he grins up at Spencer. Spencer looks on curiously, almost too afraid to ask what the President’s trying to get at, and it turns out he doesn’t have to because he’s all too excited to tell Spencer, “My associates and I were afraid that because you had no prior knowledge or experience with the Equus africanus that you would have a problem acquiring the right information to represent the animal as we view it, so we took it upon ourselves to create a PowerPoint for you to share and reference from during your presentation.”

It takes Spencer a second to register what has just been said and when it does, he reaches for his folder with his speech inside resting on the seat next to him. Spencer opens his mouth, ready to tell the President that the PowerPoint isn’t necessary because he’d already done all the research and found out all he needed to know, but he just holds his hand up, silencing Spencer before even a syllable gets out. 

Smiling icily, his eyes flickering down to Spencer’s hand that’s resting rigidly on the folder containing the speech Spencer had spent months on, the speech that had halted Spencer’s research on the Fossa, the speech that Spencer had stressed over and rehearsed nervously in front of mirrors again and again, the speech that Spencer hadn’t even wanted to write in the first place, and said just as coldly as his smile, “I’m aware that you’ve prepared a speech, Smith, because I’ve been told a lot about it, but surely the people don’t want to sit through another speech about another animal that they can’t see, they can’t grasp. The people, Smith, want something new, something attention grabbing and visually engaging for the audience. Wouldn’t you agree?” 

Spencer felt his hand clench into a fist and he wanted nothing more than to punch stupid guy in his stupid face, but he refrained. Instead, Spencer took a deep breath, trying to be the level headed person he has always been known to be, and it’s at that very moment that Spencer realizes something important that put everything else into perspective: The President had wanted to be the representative for this wild donkey. He had even went as far as assuming he was going to be the one to speak, but Pete had pulled the rug out from under his feet and took it all away by nominating Spencer. 

Spencer slowly unclenched his fists and internally sighs, cursing Pete once more, and weighing his options. Then, he, too, plasters a smile on his face, one that he hopes to level the playing field with the President, and shoves the speech he’d prepared farther under his thigh with barely a second thought because there’s only one right answer, “Right, a lot more engaging for the audience.” 

He frowns for a second as if he’d thought that Spencer was going to disagree or do something, well, more before he composes himself, smiling again. His smile, though, is tinged with hatred. When the President gets up to insert the USB into the screen to reveal the PowerPoint, he spares Spencer one last odd look, as if Spencer had played with his mind, but all he’s met with is Spencer’s full blown and genuine smile because as far as Spencer’s concerned, two can play at this game, but only one can win.

***

When they arrive at the conference, the chauffeur brings down the black screen that separated the two sections of the limousine and talks almost boredly to the President, “Mr. Derek, Sir, we have arrived.” 

Derek nods at the driver and pulls the USB out of the side of the screen, handing it to Spencer with a stern look on his face and says in a patronizing tone, “Put this somewhere safe and don’t lose it.” 

Spencer raises an eyebrow and bites his tongue hard in his attempt to not respond to the President’s tone that his eyes almost water up. Spencer forces himself to nod once and takes the USB drive mock carefully, stashing it in the front pocket of his suit. Then, it becomes a matter of being prepared. Derek starts straightening out his suit and looks at himself through the blank TV screen and starts messing with his hair. Spencer just kind of sits there awkwardly, unsure about what he could or should be doing. He looks down at his speech and picks up the folder and sighs at it. It’s just wasted time now.

Once Derek is done prepping, he stands up as tall as he can in the limo and says to Spencer, “Lets go. I’ll step out first, smiling and waving, then you’ll do the same. Oh, and take your folder in case we get offered anything, like pamphlets, that could be beneficial to our company.”

Spencer nods once, a jerky movement that doesn’t feel quite right when forced. He’s just eager to be out of the limo and to be able to put as much distance as he can possibly between him and Derek. Derek smiles, his original, cocky, all white teeth showing smile before tapping the door twice. The door suddenly swings open and Spencer’s thankful he’s hidden in the corner away from the door because there’s nothing but flashing lights and loud noises awaiting him on the other side. Once Derek has disappeared from sight, Spencer takes a deep breath and grabs his folder, checking his pocket for the USB, and steps out of the limo and into a world of media, cameras, and microphones.

Even though Spencer could hear the noise and see the flashes before he’d stepped out, it still doesn’t prepare him for the onslaught of sensory and movement all around him. There wasn’t a place he could look without a bright light was flashing and blinding him. Spencer starts hyperventilating, his palms are sweating, his face is hot, and he’s gripping his folder so tight there are probably harsh finger indents and small nail marks imprinted on it. It’s no wonder Spencer forgets to smile, forgets to pretend that everything is okay. Spencer had only been out in the spotlight for two minutes and already he’s messing everything up. He just wasn’t made for this, he’s just not good enough for this honor…

Thankfully, he has douchebag Derek to remind him. 

Derek nudges him, forcing Spencer to look at him and Spencer decides that this is probably the only time he’ll ever be happy about standing next to Derek. The President leans down and quickly whispers into Spencer’s ear, “Smile, Smith. I know it’s nerve wracking, but you can pull through for a couple more minutes until the next limo shows up.”

Spencer blinks, confused at Derek actually being nice to him, but instead of mulling over it, he just smiles brilliantly but flakily, trying mask his discomfort. Then, he has to try and not duck out from under Derek’s arm when Derek drapes it over Spencer’s shoulders as if they’re the best of comrades. Sure, Derek had just been nice to Spencer, saved him from passing out or making a fool of himself, but Spencer was far from convinced and not entirely sure Derek’s motives were pure. 

Spencer must’ve zoned out for a couple of seconds because the next thing he knows, he’s standing in front of some lady with a bright red plastic smile and a microphone held out to capture Derek’s words--whatever he could be saying at a time like this--with Derek’s arm still draped casually over his shoulders. Then, Spencer hears Derek laugh and say loudly, shaking Spencer as if he’s waking him up from a dream, “Sorry for my friend Smith; he’s a bit camera shy.” 

That’s when Spencer catches a glimpse of a familiar person in the crowd and he wants to cry out in relief. Spencer hurriedly ducks out from under the President’s arm, accidentally throwing him off balance. Spencer barely catches him, realizing that he’s really close to the microphone and, without really thinking it through, says, “My name’s actually Spencer, not Smith,” before deserting a shocked and embarrassed Derek in front of the camera without a single backwards glance. Spencer has a bad feeling that this will not be the only time he does this tonight.

Spencer weaves his way through the dense crowd, holding his folder tightly to his chest over the pocket with the USB inside, until he’s standing where he was so sure that he’d seen the familiar bleached hair that had faded to an odd grayish purple. Spencer sighs and starts looking around frantically above other smaller individuals for any sign of the hair before spotting it by a door just outside the thick of the crowd Spencer was in. 

Spencer shoves through crowd as quickly as he can. There’s a couple more flashes of a camera going off, but as he keeps traveling, the atmosphere becomes quieter and the noise seems distant. Spencer finally lets himself breathe and feels a little better than he did several seconds ago. Relief floods refreshingly through Spencer when he recognizes the short man with a nicely pressed suit and a broad white smile, similar to Derek’s apart from the fact that it’s actually genuine, and his warm brown eyes crinkle up into crows feet with the effort. In fact, he’d look normal apart from the fact that he’d bleached his hair a while back and now it had faded to an odd purple and gray color. Spencer sometimes doesn’t understand people; he’s fine with his natural brown hair, thank you very much.

When Spencer gets close enough, Pete motherfucking Wentz pulls him into a hug, which is a little awkward since Spencer is quite a bit taller than him, “Spencer, my man! Long time no see!”

Spencer rolls his eyes, but can’t help smiling and hugging Pete back because Pete’s always super warm and familiar, even when he’s being a little shit. They’re mid hug when Spencer remembers something Derek said on the ride over and he panics, shoving Pete away quickly and somewhat gently. Pete’s eyes widen and he looks considerably shocked. He laughs awkwardly, running a hand through his already tousled hair and then scratches the back of his head, “Wow, Spence, you know you could’ve just told me if you didn’t want the hug.”

Spencer quickly glances in the direction of the photographers and sighs in relief when none of them seem to be paying attention to them, and then sends thanks to whatever god may be out there when he notices Derek, who’s almost a whole foot taller than the majority of the people around him, speaking to a camera across the lot with his back turned towards them. Spencer backs up, keeping more space than necessary for normal conversation between them, his back scraping along the wall while Pete stands there confused. Spencer sighs and then remembers Pete had said something and that he probably needs to respond, “It’s, uh, not that.”

Brilliant thinking, Spencer tells himself, that just about clears everything up. Spencer scoffs at himself and feels like an asshole and a colossal idiot.

“That just about clears everything up, doesn’t it?” Pete raises one dark eyebrow, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “Well, if it wasn’t that, then can I ask why?”

Spencer finds himself getting defensive because he really hates when Pete acts like this, like Spencer doesn’t like him or respect him enough or something. Spencer glares at Pete, “That’s just grand coming from you considering I have the exact same question.”

They glare at each other for a long moment, old tensions from before resurfacing, before Pete deflates, and he looks sad, “Spence, look, I’m sorry, okay? I can explain.”

Spencer makes a stiff gesture with his hand for Pete to continue and Pete seems to get it because his eyes reflect the hopefulness that Spencer’s willingness to listen had just ignited, and he rushes to get everything out, “It was at the last company meeting right after STS invited us to speak at the conference this year. The committee unanimously voted for McAsswipe-Derek, but I couldn’t have it. He’s not the right face, he’s not the right type of vibe this company needs to flourish.” Pete pauses and looks troubled for a second, flailing his arms around and trying to get his point across, “He’s too... fake in everything he does. I doubt he’s done a single genuine thing in his life. I mean, you just sat in the back of a limousine with him for over thirty minutes; I think you out of all people understand. Anyways, I raised objection and the committee expected me to already have someone else in mind. I said the first name that came to mind, a name that I associated with being genuine and wholly good, and that name happened to be yours.”

Spencer grumbles and sighs, “Yeah, okay, I believe you, but never again leave me alone with that man, okay? Also, don’t mistake this for ungratefulness. I mean, I’m honored to be here, but it was unexpected and I was super unprepared. I’m nervous.”

Pete nods, completely serious, a rare feat in itself.

Spencer sighs and then deflates, too; his defensiveness leaving him almost as tired as the talk with Derek had left him earlier. Pete silently watches Spencer for a few seconds before stepping forward cautiously, reaching his arm out slowly until he’s touching Spencer’s shoulder, a gesture of warmth and friendliness as well as strength. Pete says quietly, meeting Spencer’s eyes as he talks, his eyes radiating the feeling of authenticity, “You’re going to do amazing, Spence. Don’t doubt yourself because I’ve read your speech. Hell, I’ve even bragged about your speech to everyone who has questioned my decision in the past couple of months. You have a gift, a passion, that Derek will never meet when it comes to the animals. I have nothing but faith in you.”

The words are meant to cheer Spencer up, to make Spencer feel like everything he has done to prepare for this day wasn’t in vain, but it only makes Spencer feel even worse than before. Spencer looks away from Pete’s honest gaze and looks at the ground. Pete takes his hand off Spencer’s shoulder and puts it under Spencer’s chin, forcing Spencer to meet his eyes, “Spence, what’s going on?”

“I’m not reading my speech.” It comes out as a dead toned whisper. “I’m going off a pre-made PowerPoint. The people apparently want something new, something attention grabbing and visually engaging. Wouldn’t you agree?” 

Pete pulls back as if Spencer had said something repulsive, taking the warmth from earlier with him, and Spencer felt as if he actually had as he spits back out the same words that had been used on him not too long ago. The wounds that still haven’t healed are being tampered with the longer the conversation goes and Spencer doesn’t know how much more he can take before he breaks.

Pete is silent for a second while Spencer lets his head drop, watching Pete’s small feet and comparing them with his considerably larger ones. Then, Pete explodes, causing Spencer to jump as he spits out venomously, “Fuck that motherfucking asswipe! Goddammit! He wouldn’t know a good thing even if it landed in his champagne glass and told him what it was! He’s a fucking idiot!”

Pete’s seething, but he just pulls Spencer into a hug and petting his hair. Spencer might not understand the enigma that is Pete Wentz, but he’ll always be thankful for him.

Sadly, the moment is over all too soon when Spencer remembers yet again what Derek said on the ride over and Spencer says carefully, trying to avoid hurting Pete’s feelings, “Pete, you can’t do this. You can’t hug me in public like this.”

Pete pulls back, still close enough to be space invading but far enough to where Spencer doesn’t think anyone will make too big of a note of it, and Spencer can almost feel the confusion radiating off him in waves because Pete knows that Spencer knows how Pete is; he’s physical, way too physical to be appropriate at times. He always has been and always will be. Though, instead of getting hurt or angry and turning this conversation into a full blown circle, Pete only says, “And why is that?”

Spencer clears his throat awkwardly, not wanting to say it, “Derek said that everyone back at headquarters thinks I’ve slept with you in order to receive this position. I don’t want them to see us too close and assume the worst. You’ve too much to lose with these rumors.”

It’s silent for a long moment and Spencer can’t meet Pete’s gaze, so he goes back to studying the ground and their feet, feeling his face heat up. Then, it comes out so suddenly, Spencer doesn’t recognize it at first. It’s just a short burst of sound and then it’s a full blown noise, one Spencer recognizes from years of hearing it. Then, he puts the clues together and realizes that Pete is laughing at him; Pete Wentz is laughing so hard and so loudly, Spencer’s sure he’s attracting attention and probably going to collapse from lack of oxygen to his brain. 

Spencer looks up in alarm is pretty sure Pete’s face is tinted purple or something, but Pete just goes on laughing, even going as far as doubling over and leaning against the brick wall for support. Normally if Pete had been laughing like this, Spencer would’ve been all too happy to join in, but this was all too serious when it comes to the both of them keeping their jobs. So, instead of trying to be as easygoing as Pete was being towards the subject, Spencer draws into himself and grumbles bitterly, “I’m glad you find this funny, Mr. Wentz, but I happen to like and appreciate my job.”

That sobers Pete up quickly because as far as the two of them were concerned, they had never had a formal relationship with superiors or subordinates. In fact, Pete despised the use of his last name if it wasn’t professionally necessary or being used as a joke, and even that was still sketchy at times. Pete liked to think he was friends with everyone and first names ensured that feeling and kept a room from being tense and awkward at times because, according to Pete, it put familiarity into the unknown.

Spencer must’ve gotten lost in his thoughts for a second because the next thing he knows, Pete is hugging him tightly, his arms almost locking Spencer into a chokehold. Pete’s shoulder is digging into Spencer’s neck and Spencer is pretty sure Pete isn’t even touching the ground, but using Spencer to hold him up. They probably look ridiculous but Pete pulls away before Spencer can make a comment involving Pete’s similarities to a small monkey.

Spencer watches Pete silently and Pete does the same before sighing, trying to compose himself and keep from laughing again, “Spence, I love you, but when people like Derek say that everyone at headquarters believes a certain thing, they don’t really mean that everyone back at headquarters thinks that. They only use it for asserting power and make it seem like they have giant and more important people behind them. It’s an enlarging technique used to make people nervous. You could even say that it’s similar to compensating. Derek used the whole headquarters thing to make up for his lack of power in this situation. He’s hurt that he’s not speaking, but lets not get back into that.”

Frustrated, Spencer nods and runs a hand through his hair, “So, I pretty much played into his cards by being nervous and vehemently denying it?”

“How should I know?” Pete shrugs, “I mean, it’s usually true about seventy percent of the time, but people like Derek don’t need to know that.”

Spencer gapes at Pete, sputtering and having difficulty speaking and breathing when Derek is suddenly standing next to them, watching the pair too closely for Spencer to feel comfortable. Spencer takes a quick breath, willing his face that’s shades darker than before to return to normal. Derek glares at them, “I’m glad the two of you find this honor we’re about to experience funny and a joke.”

Pete stops watching Spencer playfully, his real smile being replaced with one just as fake and dangerous as Derek’s, reminding Spencer that Pete is just as good at playing the power game as Derek is. Pete then says lightly with a hidden tone of resentment that Spencer’s pretty sure only he can detect, “Lighten up, Derek. I’d hate for everyone here to think we’re all work and no play. Plus, I was becoming acquainted with our dearest Spencer. He’s quite the gem and an amusement. Why haven’t we used him before? I mean, he’s qualified enough to do your job.”

Spencer doesn’t miss the way Derek’s hands flinch at Pete’s words and the way his voice comes out controlled and clipped, “He doesn’t have the public experience.”

Pete nods coolly, “Hmm, well there is a first time for everything, am I right?” 

Spencer is awed by Pete’s ability to act flawlessly as if nothing is wrong and that fact that he can put Derek in his place, playing the same game that Derek had just used on Spencer but so much more practiced and in control. If Spencer hadn’t just seen Pete completely relaxed a minute before, he would’ve been fooled too, but it’s all in the tense set of his shoulders that gives anything away--and the fact that Spencer is just good at reading Pete.

Derek nods, the movement stiff, “Right, there is a first time for everything. I’m going to go sit inside.”

Pete doesn’t even acknowledge him except for a small flick of his hand that waves Derek away as if he were an unwanted thought.

Once Derek disappears behind the door, Pete gets really quiet and looks at the ground while Spencer looks at him in shameless awe. When Pete catches Spencer looking at him in adoration though, he stops avoiding Spencer’s gaze, “Don’t look at me like that. Don’t look at me as if I should be idolized or I did something worth praising.”

“Why not?” Spencer asks before he can stop himself, “You just--”

“I know what I did.” Pete says bluntly, interrupting Spencer and looking upset, “I just destroyed a man’s confidence and put him below me. I hate doing that, even to people like Derek.”

“Pete,” Spencer says lightly, “He deserved it. People like him need to be brought down to earth every once in a while. They worship the pedestal they’ve put themselves on.”

Pete nods, “I know, but it’s not something to be adored, especially by someone as nice as you. Don’t look at me like I’m a hero, like I’ve done a good deed because that,” he makes a gesture to where Derek had been standing minutes ago, “isn’t the way to treat a person.”

Spencer goes to say something but Pete shakes his head, effectively silencing whatever stupid thing Spencer could’ve thought to say to that. Sighing, Spencer looks down to the folder in his hand and whispers, “Sorry. I didn’t think about it that way.”

Pete laughs, a quiet almost bitter sounding thing, “No one usually does.”

Spencer is about to apologize again when another limousine pulls into the lot and the cameras start flashing again, the ferocity of it all once again catching Spencer off guard. He watches as the door is opened by a chauffeur and a suited man steps out followed by a clipboard holding woman. Spencer only barely catches a glimpse of the two before Pete is throwing his arm around Spencer and pulling the two of them to the door Derek had entered earlier, “Come on, Spence, it’s time to go inside.”

***

When Spencer steps inside of the conference room, he’s blown away. He’d seen pictures of the place, he’d seen the full capacity numbers and found out approximately how many people were going to be present to hear his speech by looking at previous year statistics, but none of that could prepare him for seeing the room with his very own two eyes. 

It was gigantic, for the lack of better descriptive words, and dome shaped with layered rows of seats that almost touched the ceiling. The seats almost covered the entire room, stopping just short of the stage where Spencer would be speaking. In front of every seat, there were plaques with a first and last names actually engraved on them, reserving seats and were strategically placed so that the more important people with larger bank accounts were seated more towards the front of the room and closer to the stage. On the stage, there was a single podium with a small microphone attached and then a single giant projector screen that Spencer was sure the entire audience could see just behind the podium with the actual projector set behind a glass screen all the way across the room in the back where a movie theatre would place it.

Spencer felt his heart skip a beat when he realized that he was actually going to be on that stage, using that giant projector, and speaking to a room that would be jam-packed with people who had more experience than he did with this kind of stuff. To make matters worse, Spencer didn’t exactly remember everything that Derek had put on the PowerPoint he was only supposed to reference from rather than read. Spencer stopped walking abruptly and Pete tripped, almost stumbling down the stairs. Spencer reflexively caught him and steadied him without thinking about it. Instead, his legs had locked up in fear and he couldn’t take another step into the room. He just kept staring at the stage and could see Derek several rows down waving to get their attention, but Spencer just couldn’t do it.

Spencer started shaking, clutching his speech as hard as he could before Pete was standing on his tiptoes in front of Spencer, looking panicked and shaking him. He was saying something but Spencer was about to have an anxiety attack; he could feel it building in his stomach and chest and reaching out to his hands causing him to shake. Spencer was hyperventilating again and trying to force everything down but it wasn’t working. This place was too large and too unfamiliar for comfort. Spencer felt as if the room was starting to roll when suddenly Pete’s voice broke through the panic. 

“One, two, three, four…”

Spencer’s mind starts following along and counting with Pete. It was something familiar in this unfamiliar environment.

“Five, six, seven…”

Spencer feels the room starting to steady out and his breathing starts slowing down, sticking to the cadence that Pete’s setting with his low, steady, calm voice. Spencer blocks everything out apart from Pete’s hand on his stiff ones and sound of him counting.

“Eight, nine, ten, eleven…”

Spencer feels his fingers loosen on the folder and remembers that counting with the person helps calm him down even faster because it makes him focus more on the outside world than what’s panicking him on the inside. When he hears Pete counting again, Spencer repeats what he hears.

“Twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen…”

Spencer doesn’t remember when he’d closed his eyes, but once they reach fifteen he opens them again, realizing that he’s still standing in the same spot from before with Pete’s face directly in front of his, looking worried, but his voice doesn’t give him away like his eyes do. Pete looks relieved to see that Spencer is back in the room, back to him and Spencer feels that he’s sweating and sways uneasily on his feet. He knows that if he falls, Pete, who’s two feet smaller than Spencer, won’t be able to catch him. Spencer pants out raspily, “I need to sit down.”

Pete nods, wrapping his arm around Spencer’s waist and taking on most of Spencer’s weight, which can’t be easy and Spencer knows it. They climb down more, passing more rows of chairs before the come to a row that’s completely empty. Pete says something, but Spencer misses it and almost loses his balance when Pete tries to get him to turn down a row. Eventually, they reach a seat and Spencer recognizes his name on the plaque. He gently shakes Pete off and sits down heavily. He’s still shaking and his throat is really dry. 

Instead of sitting down, Pete remains standing and watching for something in the back and worrying at his bottom lip, a bad habit that Spencer thinks Pete got from him. Spencer looks down at his lap before realizing that Pete hadn’t dealt with one of Spencer’s anxiety attacks in a long while and the whole counting to fifteen thing is new, too. Spencer looks up at Pete, “How did you know to count? I’ve only just recently been told by my therapist to use it.”

Pete gets something tossed to him and he immediately hands it over to Spencer before sitting down next to him. Spencer looks down at the water bottle and then Derek is standing next to them, breathing somewhat hard as if he’d been running, or at least walking quickly. Spencer opens it, taking a long needed drink. Pete doesn’t answer until Spencer puts the cap back onto the bottle and sets it down on the floor between their feet, “Your mom told me that your anxiety attacks got worse after we stopped talking and went our separate ways.”

Spencer swivels his head around so fast, he’s honestly surprised he doesn’t have to deal with whiplash, “You still talk to my mom?”

“Just because you stopped talking to me doesn’t mean that I wanted to stop talking to you or stop being your friend. You were my best and only friend, you know.” It takes Spencer a second to realize Pete is blushing. “Plus, your mom is like a second mom to me. I couldn’t have that taken away from me, too.”

Spencer looks down at his hands and whispers, “I wasn’t your only friend. You ditched me, remember? I was tired of being the loser and the third wheel, so I just gave up and let you have someone who was a better friend than I was.”

Shaking his head, Pete whispers back, “You were the better friend and you were my only friend. The other guy only wanted me to get to you. I knew that from the second I met him because he didn’t care about me. I got stupidly jealous though. I thought you were going to want to be his friend instead of mine, so whenever we were all together I tried to make him look bad, but all I did was push you away and make you feel bad all the time.”

Spencer looks up at Pete to see that Pete is already watching him, the honesty showing in both the intensity of his gaze and the raw tone of his voice. Spencer sighs, “You’re kind of a bastard, you know that?”

Laughing bitterly, Pete runs his hand through his hair and sighs back, “Yeah, I know. I was stupid and insecure and didn’t realize how strong we were. Actually, I realized it a bit too late.”

They both smile tentatively at each other but the actual forgiveness doesn’t need to be voiced because they both just already know. Pete flashes Spencer one more smile and then squeezes his hand tightly once before the lights across the room dim and single man walks onto the stage and takes his place behind the podium.

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the thirty-sixth annual Endangered Species Conference!” There’s an explosion of enthusiastic clapping and the man waits for it to die down before speaking again, “I am Edward Walker, and it is truly my honor to be here tonight as your host.”

“I would like to utilize this opportunity to thank each and every one of you for your outstanding work in which many of you have worked or are still working on. As of today, we have ourselves to thank for the survival of many species such as the Bald Eagle, the Gray Wolf, the Whooping Crane, and so many more! It is through our dedication and compassion and the fact that we have put our own lives on the line that these animals continue to live and thrive today.”

“As the majority of us know, the Endangered Species Act was enacted by Congress in 1973 to place the government responsible for endangered and threatened habitats as well as plants and animals. This made it possible for the protection of certain species who are known to be over consumed or threatened with extinction by being placed on a list. This list gives the endangered species special protection under the federal government that makes it illegal to harm, hunt, trap, or sell that particular animal or plant. This also includes habits and makes the degradation of a listed habitat illegal.”

“Many people wonder why our work is so important and why we choose to dedicate our lives to nature and animals. They question why we make such a big deal over one animal or one plant disappearing, but that’s only because they don’t understand. They don’t understand that once an animal is gone, it is gone forever and there is no going back. They don’t understand that with the extinction of one bug or one kind of plant, a whole ecosystem is thrown off balance, destroying food chains as we know it, and even going as far as making it harder to sustain human life. They don’t understand that a human’s way of life is impacted by the nature that surrounds it and that every life, every being on this Earth matters.”

“Together, by saving as many species as we can, we are always one more step closer to achieving a better way of life and keeping our Earth as healthy as it can be. Together, we avoid the fate that the Tasmanian Tiger and the beloved Dodo Bird have come to see. Together, we hope to open the eyes of those around us and reach out, showing the importance that only love and compassion can achieve. We affect the future with every step we take and today we gather here to take that step collectively. Together, we realize that our efforts are invaluable and one day everyone will thank us for our hard work. One day, our efforts will be rewarded and seen in the utmost light when animals and humans can live harmoniously.”

“In closing, I just want to thank all of you for your efforts in making this world a better place one step at a time. I urge you all to never give up until every plant, every animal, and every habitat is saved from obliteration. I want to thank you all for making a difference in the world we live in today and even in the never present tomorrow. I want to thank you all again for listening so diligently, for being a part of something great, and for doing all that you’ve done and will do in the future. Thank you.”

Edward Walker then bowed down and disappeared almost as suddenly as he appeared, leaving a trail of clapping from an entire audience behind him. 

***

They took a small intermission after the first fifteen speeches and the first two hours and a half came and went. Pete had grabbed Spencer almost as soon as the lights turned on and pulled out through a side door to a small smoking area that only one other person was already using. It was a quiet place and the ground was littered with cigarette buds and the lingering smell of smoke, but Spencer didn’t mind. He didn’t smoke himself, but he’d grown up around friends and parents who did, so he was fine with it. Plus, what teenager hadn’t thought about trying it or experimenting?

Spencer watches as Pete pulls out his own pack, hitting the bottom twice in rapid succession before opening the lid, and placing it between his lips. He notices Spencer watching and offers one, but Spencer turns it down. Then, Pete turns to the only other person out back with them; that’s when Spencer looks over and notices that their plus one is Edward Walker himself. 

Spencer openly gapes because he’s so much more dignified in person than he was so far away on the stage. He has an aura of power even as he leans against the side of the building with a cigarette in his mouth. He’s even taller than Spencer which makes him tower over Pete and his black hair is gelled carefully back, spiked up in the front, and he’s watching Spencer and Pete intently as he blows out a puff of smoke. His face is smooth, but his eyes tell of his older age and many experiences as Spencer watches the smoke rise into the air and disappear. He wants to say something to Pete, something about going back inside but Pete’s not paying attention to him. 

Instead, Pete continues watching Edward and Spencer's ashamed that the first words that come out of Pete’s mouth are, “You have a light?”

Spencer wants to shake Pete and tell him that he’s talking to the most powerful man at the convention tonight, the man who owns STS, but he can’t because that’ll only draw attention to him. Spencer just watches on helplessly as Edward Walker smiles and digs through his suit pocket, tossing Pete a neon green lighter. Pete beams at him, and Spencer’s yet again impressed at how genuine he can be, before sliding onto the wall next to Edward, lighting up. Spencer just stands there awkwardly before Pete laughs and waves Spencer over to them, “Get over here, Spence. I want to introduce you to Edward. He’s the CEO of STS and the founder of the Endangered Species Conference. He’s also our very own rival, but that’s only because he and I are competitive little fucks.”

Spencer sucks in a breath and his heart stops for a second because the words don’t register completely. Pete is careless, he always has been, but he has never been this careless before. Thankfully, the feeling passes when Edward Walker starts laughing and then chokes on his most recent drag of his cigarette. Pete starts laughing too and then has to pat Edward on the back before he dies or coughs up a lung. Edwards coughs a few more seconds, his eyes watering, then he pushes Pete away playfully, “Stop teasing the poor kid. He looks like he’s about to have a heart attack! Then, you need to properly introduce me because it’s not often I get to see the people you work with since we’re, as you so eloquently put it, ‘competitive little fucks’.” 

“You know it’s true,” Pete laughs even as he stumbles away from Edward and crashes into Spencer, who had somehow moved closer without even registering it. Pete latches onto Spencer and throws his arm around Spencer’s waist, “Anyways, this is Spencer Smith; he’s my pride and joy and also a very old middle school friend. He’s the best, I tell you. Spencer, this is Edward Walker; I’m friends with his son, Jon, and that’s really how we met. We keep our relationship as a business one, but we can talk and act as friends the majority of the time.”

Spencer nods and then takes Edward’s hand when Edward offers it. They shake and Edward smiles at him, “Nice to meet you, Spencer. Actually, now that Pete mentions your name, I definitely know I’ve seen you before.”

Spencer pulls his hand away and because what, “What?” 

Even Pete looks confused now, so Spencer doesn’t necessarily feel like he has missed anything truly big, except that Edward frickin’ Walker thinks he’s seen Spencer from somewhere and was important enough to remember, even if he’s wrong, “Yeah, you see, my ride arrived at least twenty minutes after yours, so I was keeping tabs on everyone through the interviews.”

Then, the sudden dread hits Spencer like a freight train. Spencer coughs awkwardly while Pete just looks between the two confused, but Edward is just smiling openly, “I recall you putting your very own Conventionalist President in his place.”

Suddenly Pete hits Spencer playfully but harder than necessary on the back, “Spence, why didn’t you tell me?” Then he looks at Edward, “Tell me what he did! I was busy talking to Jon and one of his fine ass colleagues at that time to pay attention.”

Edward smiles openly and laughs, “Oh, we won’t talk about this now. I’m embarrassing the poor kid.” Then, his smile is turned on Spencer, “But, I must say I’m impressed. Most people wouldn’t be as bold as you are to a superior, especially on television.”

Spencer’s face feels ten times hotter and redder than before. Looking down at his feet, he says quietly, “I didn’t mean to do it. I got distracted and I was tired of him not knowing my name, but pretending to be my friend. He was, well, rude and I can’t stand that.”

Edward nods before dropping his cigarette bud on the ground, grinding it with the heel of his shoe and he winks at Spencer, “Well, it was nice meeting you, Spencer. I can’t wait to see what you have to offer today. Pete’s told me a lot about your speech.”

Spencer nods and tries not to wince as he remembers his speech and the raw wound he’s harboring, his nervousness from before returning, “Yes, thank you. It was really nice meeting you, too.”

Edward pats Pete’s shoulder lightly twice before entering the door Spencer and Pete had just come out of. Once he’s gone, Spencer looks at Pete, “Your pat on the back actually hurt.”

Pete laughs and leans against the wall and Spencer quickly does the same, breathing out a small, “Shit.”

Pete grins at him, leaning against the wall next to Spencer and putting his head on Spencer’s arm while taking a drag on his cigarette, “Shit, indeed.” 

***

On the way back inside the domed room, Pete holds the door open for Spencer. Spencer grins and Pete waves him away before he can thank him. Spencer briefly peers around the room to see that the majority of the people are back and already sitting in their chairs. Pete’s a couple of stairs ahead of Spencer, waving at some person in the crowd when another fear plagues Spencer. Speeding up, Spencer sides up to Pete and leans down to whisper in his ear, “Pete, what if I have another anxiety attack on my way up to the stage?”

Pete pretends to smile for the people watching, but he’s dead serious when he says, “You can’t, Spencer, because I’m not walking you up to the stage. Derek is.”

Spencer stops walking and Pete takes a couple more steps before stopping and turning around to face Spencer. He cocks his head to the side and sighs, his voice hard and frustrated, “I know, okay? You don’t think I tried to fight that? The board doesn’t let me get my way all the time, especially since Derek’s father is the one sponsoring us. If Derek says he wants to walk you to the stage, then, fuck, he’s going to walk you to the goddamn stage. The only reason you’re speaking and he isn’t is because his father missed the last board meeting and you already know the rest.” Pete pauses and his voice becomes softer, friendlier, “So please, please keep it together, Spence. I’m counting on you, everyone back at Conventionalist headquarters is counting on you.”

Spencer sighs, his shoulders slumping, “You think I don’t already know that? You think I asked for all of this? Well, I didn’t. I can’t help the way I am. I try, I really do, but it never seems to be enough, especially when it comes to you.” 

Pete goes to say something, but Spencer shakes his head and walks down the remaining stairs to their seats alone. Derek looks up the second Spencer sits down and he too opens his mouth to say something and Spencer doesn’t know how he does it, but he silences him with a single look. 

The lights start dimming slowly about a minute before their intermission is supposed to be over. There’s the sound of people entering the heavy swinging doors from all over and the shuffling of chairs and fabric as everyone gets situated. The conversations that had just surrounded Spencer and filled his ears fade away with the dimming of the lights and then ceases as a single spotlight beams down from the rafters above the stage. Spencer sees Pete sit down just as the rest of the lights go off and just like before, Edward Walker seems to appear from nowhere as he steps directly under the light. Spencer’s excited to hear more of what he has to say and maybe uses this moment to take notes on appearing confident and charismatic in front of such a large audience. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I’d like to officially begin the second segment of tonight’s presentations. I’d like for you all to check your cellphones to make sure they’re on silent and to wish the remainder of you the greatest of luck.” Edward bows once quickly and disappears again just before entire stage lights up. The giant screen in the back turns on and a pretty young girl steps onto the stage. Spencer takes a deep breath because there are only ten more speakers until it’s his turn.

***

Spencer sits through seven more speeches, a sick feeling in his stomach and he can tell he’s close to having another panic attack. He can see Pete watching him worriedly from the corner of his eye and it does nothing to help the panic that wants to escape from his mouth and every inch of his being. Spencer resorts to counting steadily in his head, but feels bad because then he’s not really listening to what the guy on the stage is saying. Actually, Spencer can’t even remember what animal or company this guy is representing, but he thought the presentation for the Blue Whale and the Asiatic Lion were pretty cool and really informative and Spencer wouldn’t mind bringing it up to Pete in the next company meeting and even preparing a short knockoff speech as to why sponsoring those two species could benefit their company even if they don’t get the ideal amount of sponsoring tonight.

Spencer just barely starts creating the outline of the newly inspired speech in his head when he’s jabbed harshly in the side by an elbow. Spencer turns and glares at Derek, but Derek’s too busy making confusing hand signals at Spencer and the stage to really care. Spencer’s confusion must be obvious on his face because Derek rolls his eyes like Spencer is slowest person he’s ever come across before he grabs Spencer’s arm and pulls him out of his chair. That’s about when Spencer gets it and he feels himself pale as he grabs his folder and checks for the USB in his suit pocket and they quickly exit their row. He makes one more glance back towards their seats, but only sees Pete watching the two of them and Spencer definitely knows what it means when Pete starts making exaggerated breathing motions because Spencer’s pretty sure that without Pete’s reminder, he wouldn’t have remembered that he needed to breathe until it was too late.

He and Derek take the long route around the dome building until they reach a door with a thin stretch of light shining out from the bottom. Derek pushes the door open, releasing Spencer’s hand and holding it open for the two of them before closing it quickly behind them. Once they’re inside, Spencer turns around to see only one other person in the room, a nice full length mirror, and a couple of mismatched couches. The room is painted a simple, calming baby blue, which Spencer knows wasn’t coincidental because of what this room is for, and the carpeted floors are a soothing beige that looks like it would really soft if Spencer was walking on it barefoot.

Spencer takes a deep breath and avoids looking at himself in the mirror as he sits on the ugly yellow couch. It isn’t surprising to Spencer when Derek goes directly to the mirror and starts fixing his already perfect hair, but Spencer chooses not to say anything. Instead, he sets his folder down the couch and stares at it before Derek interrupts the quiet atmosphere, “Why’d you bring that in here? You won’t be getting any pamphlet or informational propaganda.”

Spencer looks up and meets Derek’s eyes through the mirror, “I don’t know, habit.”

Derek rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything else as he returns to primping. Spencer’s really grateful because he’s not sure how much more criticism from Derek he can take today. Spencer looks down at his hands in his lap and then watches the other person in the room with him from the corner of his eye. He notices the bright blonde, blue eyed guy watching Derek through the mirror with wide eyes, as if he’s afraid of Derek (Spencer can’t really blame him), before he looks down nervously at his hands in lap, unaware that Spencer is watching him.

Suddenly, there’s the loud, unmistakable sound of clapping from an entire room of people coming in through the door. Spencer looks at the door and his breathing quickens. It sounds absolutely terrifying. Spencer almost starts counting when he catches Derek already watching him and the blonde guy is standing up, straightening his suit and exiting through another door, climbing the narrow stairs that lead to the stage alone.

Thankful for the distraction, Spencer watches him leave and counts his footsteps until the door swings closed. Then, Derek drops his hands from his hair and glares at Spencer venomously, his voice hard and angry, “I don’t what happened to you back on the stairs, but you listen to me right now, Spencer. This convention means everything to me and I don’t want you screwing it up because you’re too fucking afraid to talk in front of too many people. As you have probably already figured out, I wanted to speak at this convention and if it was up to me, I would be. The only reason you got this position is because Wentz is an idiot and chooses to run a business with his friends behind him. Let me tell you this though: if you screw it up tonight, your ass will be out of work and you can forget about ever having another job working with animals again because I will fucking ruin you. No one has faith in your ability to speak in front of this large of a crowd and you better fucking prove them wrong or I will personally shame you in front of them. Your performance tonight determines whether you, Wentz, and anyone else who is associated with you still have a job at the end of the night. My father pretty much owns the Conventionalists and if you think for one second that he’s happy that you’re representing the company, then you’re wrong yet again.” 

He smiles sharply, his eyes still impressively glaring, “So, don’t fuck up this presentation like everyone knows you will.”

Sucking in a dry gulp of air, Spencer looks down at his hands as they wring together nervously in his lap. Sharply, Spencer nods and Derek steps back, his demeanor from before returning. Spencer feels numb and terrified. Any confidence he had gained before stepping through the door into this tiny square room had been sucked out of him in a matter of seconds and had left him chilled to the bone. Spencer shivers involuntarily, but doesn’t look up from his lap to see if the company's President had noticed. He just sits back into the cushions, trying to make himself seem as small as he felt inside.

As he scoots back, his thigh brushes his folder with his speech inside and then anger comes forth from seemingly nowhere. Suddenly, Spencer is mad at Derek, he’s mad at Pete Wentz, he’s mad at this stupid conference he shouldn’t even be at, he’s angry at all the time wasted on that damned speech, and he’s fucking angry at himself. Spencer clenches his hands into fists, fights back the angry tears because he’s sure Derek would have a lot to say about that, and glares at a stain in the carpet until his eyes dry, causing the stain to blur.

Spencer notices that the room is completely silent apart from his heartbeat sounding in his ears and the sound of his ragged, angered breathing. Somehow, Spencer can just tell that Derek is sitting on the dark brown couch directly across from him, pointedly not watching Spencer as he pretends to be completely absorbed in his own world. Spencer can just feel it and knows it’s true. Spencer’s listening to the silence so intently that the sounds of the audience clapping from outside the door floods his ears as if every single one of them were sitting right next to him.

Spencer stands up robotically and doesn’t even care if Derek does the same. He straightens out his suit and remembers the game from the limo, the thought that only one can win, and unmasks a smile that is nowhere near genuine or nice. Alone, Spencer grabs his folder and opens the door. He climbs up the narrow stone stairs and he’s almost surprised at the lack of nerves he’s feeling. Almost. 

There’s a tech guy standing at the top of the stairs, but Spencer barely notices him long enough to hand him the drive. Standing at the edge of the stage as the guy with the blonde hair bows and steps off, Spencer’s mind wanders to what he’s going to say and how he’s going to exude confidence when the tech guy says in, what Spencer feels like, a rude tone, “You need to get on stage now. No more preparations. That’s what that room you were just in was for.”

Spencer gives the guy the a smile he’d only just discovered in the practice room, “Oh, I know.”

The tech backs up and looks at Spencer oddly, but Spencer just looks at the stage, takes one last breath and steps out into the unknown. There’s clapping, but it falls on deaf ears. As far as Spencer’s concerned, there’s no one in the audience and he’s practicing in front of his mirror once more. When Spencer reaches the podium right underneath the burning hot spotlight, he notices a little remote resting on it, so he’s in control of his own PowerPoint. He grabs it and sets his speech down with no intention of even looking at it and glances backwards to see the title screen of the PowerPoint. He leans in towards the microphone and waits for the clapping to cease before beginning.

“Hello, I am Spencer Smith speaking on behalf of the Endangered Conventionalists.” He gives the audience a full watt smile, one that used to get him his way when he was a child and still worked as he grew into an adult, “I’m here tonight to inform you all about an animal that the Conventionalists and I regard as a high priority because there are fewer than a hundred of them still alive today in part of Somalia and Ethiopia. The Equus africanus, more commonly known as the African Wild Ass, was listed as endangered on June 14th of 1976 and was studied by the IUCN, the International Union for Conservation of Nature, in 2008 and they rated the species in the CR category, which is better known as critically endangered.”

Without even viewing the speech and its multiple copies that’s tucked away safely in his folder, Spencer starts with the same introduction he’d written previously. He gets halfway through his own introduction that seems to capture the audience’s attention but the lights are too blinding to tell when Spencer catches a movement coming from the side of the stage with the corner of his eye. 

Spencer glances at the movement and is determined to ignore it even more than before when he realizes it’s Derek and he’s pointing at the PowerPoint and making angry gestures at Spencer. Spencer smiles icily when he realizes Derek can’t do anything to him while he’s on the stage and waits until his introduction is completely finished before he looks back and flips the screen on the PowerPoint. He skims the information quickly before laughing humorlessly into the microphone and addresses the audience, running completely on anger and adrenaline, “I almost forgot the PowerPoint behind me, but it looks like I’ve already covered the information on this slide and the next.”

Spencer takes the microphone off the stand on the podium and walks a little more away, really glad the microphone detaches, and addresses the audience full on, his angers returning as he watches Derek from the corner of his eye, “Actually, I didn’t even write this PowerPoint. I spent months writing my own speech and getting it approved and checked over and over again. Hell, I even practiced in front of the mirror so I wouldn’t get anything wrong and wouldn’t be so nervous as I spoke in front of all you.” The audience laughs in good humor but Spencer isn’t joking, “In fact, I only learned about this PowerPoint about twenty minutes before I arrived here and was expected to use it instead of my speech because it’s apparently more visually appealing. Fuck that!”

Spencer rolls his eyes as the whole audience gasps collectively, but then he smiles again, glancing at Derek who’s just standing at the side of the stage completely frozen, “Actually, I’d like to introduce you all to my asshole of a company President and the guy who designed this wonderful but entirely useless PowerPoint. Come on out, Derek.” 

When Derek doesn’t move, Spencer walks to edge of the stage and pulls him into the spotlight, “Say hello now because here’s the only fifteen seconds of genuine fame you’ll get after this. As you reminded me several times, you wanted to speak here today instead of me. I’m really glad you weren’t chosen though because then I never would’ve gotten that opportunity to realize that you’re only as high as you are because your daddy sponsors the Conventionalists. In fact, if I wouldn’t have been chosen, I would’ve went my whole life working for a man who doesn’t deserve it, a man who felt that he needed to threaten me before I came up here, a man who told me he’d ruin me publically if I messed up tonight. I dare you, Derek, because I’ve already done it for the both of us. If I go down, you’re going down with me. What more could you say?”

Spencer puts the microphone to Derek’s mouth and laughs humorlessly when Derek says nothing, just stares wide-eyed into the vast audience. Spencer brings the microphone back to his mouth and says loudly, “Good luck destroying me and restoring your reputation after this one because I quit, Asshole!” Spencer pauses for a second and on second thought brings the microphone back to his mouth, “I’m actually really glad the mic detached from the podium because I’ve always wanted to do this...”

Spencer drops the mic and loves the sound of the high-pitched static that screams through the speakers as he walks off stage, leaving a stunned audience and Derek standing alone on the stage behind him.

***

It isn’t until Spencer is offstage that the significance of what he’s done hits him. It’s like a bullet lodged in his chest and what makes it even worse is that he hadn’t even thought of what this would do to Pete while he was doing it. Spencer makes one more backwards glance, but he can’t see Pete in the many rows of people nor can anyone specific be heard over the nervous chatter of an entire audience. Derek had already been pulled off the stage by a couple of people and Edward Walker’s booming voice could be heard as he was trying to get everything back in order.

Then, Spencer hears footsteps coming from behind him, so he runs. He runs until he comes to the side door where Pete had taken him to smoke. Once he’s outside, he slams the door shut and leans against it, looking up towards the sky. Slowly, he slides down, his knees touching his chest as his butt hits the ground. Spencer grinds the palms of his hands into his eyes until he sees little bright lights and can’t help but feel like a weight had been lifted off his chest even as another starts settling in its place, as if he’d been liberated after such a long time. Of course it was tinted with remorseful thoughts of Pete and all the Conventionalists who had somewhat been close to Spencer; they were most likely going to receive the repercussion of Spencer’s actions now that Spencer was no longer underneath those who could punish him. In fact, Spencer doesn’t even have a job anymore.

Spencer groans because he actually doesn’t even have a job anymore! He actually quit. He actually fucking did it. Then, the thoughts of his beloved Fossa cloud his mind and he realizes that no one is going to pick up his slack because he had been his unit’s manager and had had to come up with their campaigns, so his whole campaign is going to go down the drain; he won’t even be able to talk to Pete about the Asiatic Lion or the Blue Whale now because he was so fucking stupid.

Spencer sighs, his hands still covering his eyes, “Shit, shit, shit. This is bad.”

“Shit’s right. What you did in there was pretty brave, but you should’ve waited until after the speech; it started out really good, if you asked me.” A deep voice cuts straight through Spencer and Spencer looks up sharply, probably narrowly missing giving himself whiplash. Standing against the wall opposite of Spencer is a man who looks to be a little shorter than Spencer with short, dark brown hair that expands down into a neatly trimmed short-box beard. He’s wearing a tight black suit with a hoodie over top of it, and converse shoes. He’s holding a cigarette between his fingers and slowly brings it to his lips, watching Spencer with his nice brown eyes all the while. Spencer gets mesmerized by his lips as he blows out the air and smiles, “I’m Jon, by the way.”

Spencer stops watching his mouth as it moves again and glares at him, getting off the ground and brushing the dirt from the ground off his butt, “Yeah, well, I’d like to see you try to make good decisions while everyone is breathing down your neck and constantly telling you what you have to be or you have to do.”

Jon puts his hands up in mock surrender, his cigarette dangling from his lips. When Spencer doesn’t say anything more, he brings his hands down and grabs the cigarette, blowing out a large cloud of smoke that Spencer watches rise and disappear. Spencer takes a shaky breath and leans against the door, letting his feet slide from under him, “Smoking isn’t good for you.”

“Who are you trying to convince?” Jon asks semi seriously and then laughs, but Spencer doesn’t feel like he’s being mocked, just informed, “Every smoker already knows that it’s bad. We’ve all been warned about it in health class at school and on the little label on the packaging, we’ve seen the pictures of the blackened lungs and the commercials where the people pull out a tooth or rip off skin in order to pay for the pack because it symbolizes what we are doing to ourselves every time we light up. Some of us started it when we were too young to know that life is to be appreciated and now there’s only one way out.”

“Spencer.”

Jon raises an eyebrow, “What?”

“My name,” Spencer says quietly, using the door to slide back down onto the ground. “Earlier, you said your name was Jon but I didn’t tell you my name.”

“Oh, well, that I already knew.” Jon smiles and then laughs to himself, “I thought you were telling me that you were going to be the reason I stop smoking and I was about to be really flattered, but a little freaked out at the same time.”

Spencer leans his head back against the door and laughs. It comes out in little gasps as if it’s being surprised out of him and sounds hysterical as the normality of this situation brings out the full weight of what he did only moments earlier. It’s like he was in shock earlier and entirely numb, but now it’s wearing off, leaving Spencer unable to control his laughter and shaking all over as if he’s coming down from a drug. Jon watches Spencer worriedly before flicking his cigarette on the ground and bending down next to Spencer. Jon says something, but Spencer only watches his lips move. He’s unable to grasp what the vowels and consonants mean when they’re placed together into the syllables and then into words because the chattering in his teeth and the acute feeling of fear takes over. 

Spencer thinks he feels a panic attack coming, the odd feeling building in his chest and causing his hands to shake. His breathing is coming out in heavy pants when Jon leans down, putting both his hands on the sides of Spencer’s face. Jon puts his face directly in front of Spencer’s and starts breathing loudly and exaggeratedly. Spencer stares into his beautiful brown eyes and watches them, uses them to come back down from the panic in his mind. He takes Jon’s breathing pattern and makes it his own, and then reaches up rigidly, placing his hand on top of Jon’s. 

When the sound comes flooding back into Spencer’s ears, he takes a deep startled breath as if he’d been deep underwater and had just reached the surface. Jon stays close to Spencer, his forehead almost touching Spencer’s and they’re breathing in time. It takes Spencer a little longer to realize his hand is still on top of Jon’s, holding it there on his face, and he swiftly pulls his hand away and Jon sits back quickly in front of Spencer on the ground as if he’d too forgotten how close they were. He stays on the ground with Spencer, their knees still touching, and breaks their breathing pattern. He smiles up shakily at Spencer, “You scared me for a minute. I haven’t had to do that for someone for years now. How long have you had that?”

“Since I was younger, about seven.” Spencer stops shaking, “It’s gotten better and worse with age. I’m not afraid of being in some situations anymore and it’s only the extremes that set it off, but with extreme situations come extreme results.”

Jon moves until he’s leaning against the door, his knees touching his chest and probably ruining his really nice suit. Jon lays his head back against the door, tilted to the side on the edge of Spencer’s shoulder, looking up into the sky. Spencer’s heart isn’t slowing down, but Spencer feels like that has something more to do with Jon’s head on his shoulder than the initial panic attack. 

They sit in silence for a long while, just breathing and being until Spencer hears muted clapping from the other side of the door and tenses up, remembering where he is. Jon must feel it because he looks up, “Do you want to leave here and go somewhere else? I’m not speaking here tonight and I’m sure my friends will understand because they don’t even like being here.”

Spencer sighs, “I would love to leave, but I rode here in a limo with that Derek guy who I humiliated. I don’t have a way home except Pete and he’s going to be super angry at me.”

“I could take you.” Jon says casually, looking at the ground, “I mean, it wouldn’t be a problem or out of the way considering I don’t have to be anywhere else.”

Spencer’s shakes his head even though Jon isn’t looking, “No, I couldn’t ask that of you. I’ll call a cab or something. It’s no big deal.”

“You didn’t ask, I just offered,” Jon grins and when Spencer just raises an eyebrow adds, “I promise it’s not a big deal and I have nowhere else to be. Even if I did though, I’d still drop it to give you a ride because you’re already too cool for me, standing up to your boss like it’s nothing.”

Spencer groans, “Trust me, it wasn’t nothing and definitely isn’t nothing anymore. Pete will probably punch me the next time he comes near me. I fucked up everything.”

Jon shrugs, “He probably will punch you because he’s a very physical person, but I also think he’ll forgive you pretty quickly because Pete’s very forgiving and more likely than not he feels the exact same way as you about Derek. He doesn’t hold grudges on people either, so just make sure to apologize the next time you see him.”

“You know him?” Spencer asks, already trusting Jon a little more now that he seems to clearly know Pete. Of course Spencer already knew this about Pete and had experienced it on multiple occasions for himself, it was still comforting to hear it again, have it confirmed after he screwed up so badly.

Jon smiles and nods enthusiastically, “Yeah, I met him in college. We took the same environmental classes. I didn’t have any friends at the time so he took me in and introduced me to some cool people he met who were also wanting to get into the business Pete and I are passionate about. Too bad we’re considered enemies now.”

“You work for STS?” Spencer feels sick to his stomach when he realizes that Jon works for Edward, the most influential man ever, the man who was looking forward to watching Spencer’s speech. Spencer had completely forgotten about Edward.

“Yes and you’re a Conventionalist.” Jon rolls his eyes in exasperation, then grins, his voice sarcastic, “Do you automatically hate me now?”

Caught off guard for a second, Spencer just stares at Jon and then shakes his head, “Uh, no?”

“Good, because I don’t hate you either, even though you seemed unsure about it,” Jon grins and starts moving to stand, “So how about that ride?”

Spencer smiles widely, shaking his head and starts standing up, brushing the back of his pants off and Jon does the same. Spencer goes to open the door and hopefully sneak them through the dome without being noticed, but the second Spencer reaches for the door, Jon puts his hand on Spencer’s, stilling the movement, “Trust me when I say you don’t want to go back in there.”

Spencer blushes and as Jon’s hand on his before mentally shaking himself and watches Jon’s eyes and face instead, “Then how do we leave?”

Jon smirks, taking his hand off Spencer’s. He looks over the edge of the balcony and shrugs casually before turning back around, “We jump.”

***

“You’re crazy!” Spencer says with a panicked tone, “You can’t jump over the balcony. I had to climb stairs to get here. It’s like two stories down!”

Jon’s sitting on the edge of the balcony, his legs dangling over the edge on the opposite side and he’s rocking back and forth, playing with Spencer’s nerves, while Spencer stands behind him almost pulling his own hair out. Jon rolls his eyes and looks back at Spencer, “Spencer, it’s not that far down, I promise.”

Spencer crosses his arms over his chest and raises an eyebrow, something Spencer’s very good at by now when he hears ridiculous things, “I think I’d rather take my chances back in the dome.” Spencer turns around and starts heading back towards the door, but then Jon’s hopping down from the ledge and bodily blocking Spencer from the door.

“They’ll eat you alive in there, Spence. They’ve already got what you did on camera and it’ll probably be online by the end of tonight. Media swarms around this type of shit, discord and outbursts. You’re probably going to be talked about on the news or some newspaper somewhere.” Spencer reacts to the use of his nickname a little more positively and familiarly than his actual name and actually seems to be listening, so Jon takes note of it before continuing carefully, “Do you trust me?”

Spencer looks at Jon for a long time and then sighs loudly in frustrated at how persuasive cute men could be, “I probably shouldn’t, but you’re convincing, so yes.”

Jon grabs Spencer’s hand and leans into Spencer’s personal space, looking directly into Spencer’s eyes, and Spencer can’t help but notice that he smells like coffee and cigarettes and the outdoors, “Then trust me when I say the drop isn’t that far down and I’ve jumped it several times before. I wouldn’t suggest something you couldn’t handle. Do you believe that?”

Spencer melts and nods, allowing Jon to pull him to the edge of the balcony. Spencer breathes in deeply and looks at Jon for reassurance. Jon smiles helpfully, “I’ll go first, but you have to go right afterwards. Don’t give yourself time to think about it or you’ll talk yourself into circles. If you want me to, I’ll even catch you. I won’t let you fall or get hurt.”

Nodding, Spencer whispers, “I can do this, I can.” Then he says louder, “Don’t catch me.”

Smiling and nodding eagerly, Jon heaves himself over the edge of the balcony and gives Spencer one last hopeful look, “Remember, jump right after and don’t think about it.”

Then, Jon jumps. Spencer closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to watch and peeks down when he hears a thump and bushes rustling below, seeing Jon waving up at him from the bushes. Spencer takes a deep breath and keeps his mind as blank as he can as he climbs over the railing and lets his legs dangle over. He wants to close his eyes, but he feels that that’s worse. Spencer holds the railing hard until his knuckles are white and he’s shaking all over before sliding off the edge and letting himself drop down. 

He yells on the way down and then lands awkwardly in the bushes below, noticing the way the branches are already snapped and indented like a seat to catch him. Spencer looks up and Jon and Jon is already watching him and beaming, sticks and leaves stuck to his suit and probably Spencer’s, too. Jon helps lift him out of the pile and Spencer brushes himself off, looking up at the balcony. Then, the laughter just bubbles out of Spencer. He can’t help but feel like he’s a teenager again, sneaking out of window late at night to meet up with Pete even though his mom loved Pete and would let him come over at any time of night. Spencer throws his head back and feels free, almost invincible, and leans against Jon. Jon starts laughing too and throws his arm around Spencer’s waist, supporting the both of them. It’s an action neither of them really think about as they stand there excitedly.

Spencer looks at Jon and then back up towards the balcony, “I can’t believe it did that!”

“Well, you need to because you did!” Jon beams, “We need to hurry and get out here though. You yelled a little louder than you probably remember doing.”

Spencer covers his mouth quickly, still giggling and feeling giddy, and allows Jon to pull him away from the building and towards the guest parking lot. Spencer still feels absolutely free and like his problems have shrunk in size since being with Jon. Spencer feels light and boisterous. He feels like he’s been animated after a long while of being in the dark. 

Spencer feels… lighter.

***

The car ride to Spencer’s is filled with weird conversations ranging from the best animals they’ve ever campaigned for to pondering whether black should actually be considered a color or not. There were little intervals where they would get quiet and Jon would seem to know right when Spencer’s mind started circling around the events from earlier because he’d point out something random on the road and begin discussing it though it’s likely that both of them have seen the object millions of times before because Spencer definitely has, but he feeds into the conversation, thankful for the distraction. Every now and then, Spencer would have to interrupt either himself or Jon to give directions, but neither really minded, even if Spencer felt it a little odd at how fast he’d taken to liking Jon. Usually he wasn’t an open book or someone who could hold conversations for that long, but thirty minutes later, he’s still sitting in Jon’s car, entering his apartment complex and they’re still deeply engrossed in each other. 

When Spencer’s apartment is finally in view, Spencer points to the parking lot and Jon turns into it, parking in the spot closest to the building and cuts off the engine. The car is completely silent now and Spencer’s a little reluctant to get out. It’s been awhile since he’s just simply able to enjoy someone’s company like he has this past hour. Usually no one wants to talk to him unless it’s work related or their paired up with him and he’s usually pretty fine with that, a little quiet himself. Plus, he actually likes working alone.

Spencer sighs, “So, this is it.” 

“Is it?” Jon asks, his voice soft in the quiet of the vehicle.

Turning his head quickly to look at Jon, Spencer’s confused, “What do you mean? This is where I live. I should know since I’ve lived here for six years now.”

Jon just smirks and shakes his head for a second, watching Spencer with playful eyes, “Come on, I’ll walk to your apartment.”

They both climb out of the car and Spencer’s about to close his door when he notices that Jon’s keys are still in the ignition, “Hey, wait, aren’t you going to take your keys?”

Jon looks back in surprise and confusion, “Yeah, why? What’s the crime like here?”

“It’s enough for you to have to take your keys out with you.” Spencer says, watching Jon oddly. He’d thought it pretty standard for people to take their keys out and lock their doors in precaution because no matter how safe the neighborhood there’s always that one time something bad happens.

Jon doesn’t seem to notice as he shrugs like it’s no big deal and bends back down to grab his keys, still not bothering to lock the doors. Spencer can’t help but notice as he closes the passenger door and makes his way to the sidewalk, Jon catching up easily with him. They walk up side by side up the stairs and Jon keeps looking around interestedly and almost excited.

“I’ve never lived in an apartment complex before.” Jon says, looking around at all the buildings and seeming excited about it.

Spencer furrows his eyebrows, “Not even once?” 

“That’s usually what never means,” Jon laughs and bumps shoulders with Spencer even though the stair railings are unstable and creaking as they walk. Spencer glares at him while Jon just shrugs and lifts his hands up in mock surrender just as he did back at the convention, “Being serious, I’ve just never had the need to move into an apartment so it just kind of never happened. I’ve always wanted to and it was especially strong during my college years, but I was told the dorms were pretty much the same thing and just settled.”

“I can tell you right now that those dorms were mostly likely nicer that any apartment anyone in the history of apartments has ever owned, so you definitely didn’t ‘just settle’ as you like to think you did. And, if you and Pete went to the same college then there is definitely no way the two of you were lacking in anything.” 

They reached the top of the stairs and were crossing the little balcony to Spencer’s front door. Spencer’s apartment wasn’t ugly or anything extremely undesirable, but it was just enough to get him by. It was on the verge of being expensive but still cheap enough for him to be able to afford what he needed. It was smaller than most places and only had one bedroom. He’d decorated a little, but he spent so little time at his apartment that it didn’t really matter what it looked like as long as he had a bed and a bathroom. He really hoped Jon didn’t want to go inside. He’d probably be embarrassed at how bland everything was now that it was Jon looking at it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jon asks, mouth quirked down into a slight frown.

Spencer blinks for a couple seconds, “Oh, uh, nothing.”

Jon didn’t look like he believed him but let it drop anyways. They stopped outside Spencer’s door and Spencer unlocks it, leaving the key in the door and turns to face Jon, “Now, this might actually be it, right? You’re not going to walk me to my bedroom or anything?” Spencer jokes Jon laughs, the sound so pure and beautiful Spencer has to suck in a breath.

“No.” Jon replies breezily, “Unless you want me to?”

Spencer turns red and playfully pushes Jon, scaring himself at how familiar their acting when they’d just met under an hour ago, “No, what the fuck?”

“Worth a shot,” he shrugs while Spencer rolls his eyes. 

“It really wasn’t.” Spencer mumbles the first part and then says a bit louder, “Thank you for driving me here and walking me to my door. I actually had a wonderful time getting to meet you. So, uh, goodnight? See you never again?”

Shaking his head, Jon smiles, “You’re all about goodbyes rather than leaving things open. You’re definitely that guy who doesn’t rest until a project is done and by done, I mean perfect by your standards. Who says this is the last time we see each other?” 

“Who says we will see each other again?” Spencer questions. “I don’t plan on leaving my house for a while. At least not while I’m probably trending on YouTube.” 

Laughing loudly, Jon pulls Spencer into an unexpected hug and Spencer finds himself holding Jon back just as tightly. When they pull apart, Jon’s grinning from ear to ear, “That’s the spirit, Spence, but you’re already forgetting I now know where you live. If you become a hermit, I’ll have to come by and drag you out of here. You’re too amazing to stay inside all the time and I think I know a few places where people who might be a YouTube trend won’t make such a big deal.”

Spencer nods casually but on the inside he’s grinning and screaming like a maniac, “I might have to take you up on that.”

“Of course you will,” Jon replies as if it’s obvious even while he’s noticeably joking. “I didn’t ask you whether you would go or not, I told you I’d drag you. This is blatantly me telling you that you have no choice in the matter.”

Spencer raises an eyebrow while Jon just winks and turns around before Spencer can think of a response. Before Spencer’s even able to unthaw, Jon’s already back down the stairs and waving at Spencer from his car. Spencer waves back slowly and shakes his head, turning around to open his door. By the time he looks back again, Jon’s car has already disappeared, leaving Spencer to wonder what the hell just happened.

Despite the odd goodbye that’s not really a goodbye, Spencer finds that he can’t wipe the stupid smile off his face for the rest of the evening.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading!


End file.
